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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27913660">I Am, I Am, I Am.</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnotherBoredFan/pseuds/AnotherBoredFan'>AnotherBoredFan</a>, <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/yyuu/pseuds/yyuu'>yyuu</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aged-Up Character(s), Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Cameras, Canon Universe, Car Accidents, Character Death, Coping, Depersonalization Disorder, Eventual Fluff, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Mental Health Issues, Post-Time Skip, Suna Rintarou-centric, Team Bonding, derealization disorder</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 19:14:45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,244</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27913660</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnotherBoredFan/pseuds/AnotherBoredFan, https://archiveofourown.org/users/yyuu/pseuds/yyuu</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>For the longest time, Suna Rintarou had always been the one behind the camera.</p><p>Like a spectator to someone else's life unraveling before him, Suna always lived his life as if in a constant phase of transition, never truly settling, never truly belonging. But now Suna Rintarou was dead, and all they have left was a thirty-minute video of him, just him, finally letting himself be under the spotlight.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ginjima Hitoshi &amp; Suna Rintarou, Kita Shinsuke &amp; Suna Rintarou, Miya Atsumu &amp; Miya Osamu, Miya Atsumu &amp; Suna Rintarou, Miya Osamu &amp; Suna Rintarou, Suna Rintarou &amp; Akagi Michinari, Suna Rintarou &amp; Inarizaki Volleyball Club, Suna Rintarou &amp; Ojiro Aran, Suna Rintarou &amp; Oomimi Ren</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>108</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>I Am, I Am, I Am.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>(A gentle reminder that you are here, you are seen, and you are needed.)</p><p>English is not our first language so apologies in advance for any grammatical errors!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>For the longest time, Suna Rintarou had always been the one behind the camera.</p><p>Whenever they think about memories of Suna, sounds of camera shutters and his phone snapping pictures were always there in the background. They'd huddle together on a corner of the gym with him as he played back whatever it was he recorded that day, elbowing each other to get a better view of his phone screen. They'd be too busy laughing at his recordings to point out that Suna was never in the center of the shot. Well, except when Atsumu demanded a payback in the form of blackmail material for him, because it’s only fair when Suna already had a mountain pile of theirs, in which case Suna would only reply with “get one yourself, I betcha you can’t.” And they never could, really—they never could whip out their phones quite as fast.</p><p>Suna didn’t do aesthetic pictures either, which was a shame considering the sheer usage of his cheap camera and his endless hoard of pictures in multiple USBs would’ve counted for <em> some </em>practice. They’d catch him snapping a quick picture when the sky was a particular shade of purple and blushing pinks, or when a cat with different colored eyes wandered into their gym that one time, maybe a picture or two of his silhouette during golden hours, but nothing with his face directly on frame.</p><p> </p><p>This is why they have stumbled upon an unfortunate predicament upon deciding a memorial picture for his funeral.</p><p> </p><p>It was a quick death; Suna’s mother told them herself. Suna was on his way back home from practice when a drunk driver couldn’t hit the brakes fast enough on a slippery road from the rain. The car flipped over; the side where Suna sat was completely wrecked.</p><p>The drunk driver was relatively unharmed but Suna died on impact, couldn’t even make it until the ambulance arrived. They only heard the news several days later from Kita who Suna’s mother contacted first, along with instructions for everyone outside of Hyogo to quickly pack a black suit and head back home to attend the funeral of one Suna Rintarou.</p><p>In the end, they used the latest proper picture they could find, which was a photo of his entry for the EJP Raijin tryouts.</p><p> </p><p>"We’re planning to put the phone inside the casket with him because, you know, Rintarou can't be separated from his beloved phone." The mother managed a sad chuckle. Kita, whose hands were held tightly by Suna’s mother, couldn't bring himself to return the same positive front.</p><p>"That boy… He’s always on his phone. I wasn’t bothered by it really, I know how he gets, and I let him be since it didn’t get in the way of his studies, but—God, it’s not like it matters now…” She forced out another laugh, and if there was a strangled sob that still slipped onto the surface of her composed charade, nobody said a thing. “He trusted me with his passwords. I respected his privacy of course, and I’d only use his gadgets if mine is low on battery or during emergencies and, well, this is the biggest emergency there’ll ever be.”</p><p>She took a deep breath, steadying her voice before she broke down in sobs again. Kita remained a silent reassurance, squeezing her hand comfortingly in return and not once rushing her to continue. The rest of the Inarizaki alumni sitting around them only waited patiently, they could only imagine how much grief she was going through, how much of it was bottled up in favor of appearing strong in front of the rest of the mourning visitors.</p><p>Eventually, she continued.</p><p>“I went through his phone, mostly to inform his friends and other acquaintances about his passing, at least at first… then I found myself looking at his gallery and there were just so many folders and I wanted to see the things he saw, find out what he’s been interested in—I already miss him so much—” her laugh forced down a pained sob from slipping out again. “I scrolled and scrolled… As I looked through it I realized that more than a half of these are about every one of you.”</p><p>She opened her purse to show Suna’s old flash disk. Osamu recognized the matte black disk like the palm of his hands since he used to borrow it to watch a few movies Suna had downloaded with Atsumu so many times. Not to mention Suna’s constant reminders to bring it to school as Osamu always forgot to return it.</p><p>“I've copied all contents of his phone to this disk. Here,” she gave the item to Kita’s hand as he was the closest to her, “I believe Rintarou would’ve liked it if you have these."</p><p>Kita looked down at the flash disk in his hand and before he could say something to the mother, Suna’s sister came knocking. The resemblance with Suna was so jarring, most of them couldn’t even bring themselves to voice a greeting and offer her obligatory condolences. Suna’s mother quickly excused herself, leaving the Inarizaki alumni alone in the room.</p><p>The rest of the EJP Raijin members and the Inarizaki alumni dissipated little by little as the funeral ceremony came to an end, and before they knew it only seven of the volleyball club members were left unmoving. It was Oomimi who finally broke the silence.</p><p>“Want to go through it right now? The flash disk, I mean. I brought my laptop with me.” Oomimi rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, lips pressed with a slight frown. “I know we’re not supposed to bring work to funerals but... I don't know when I'll be available again."</p><p>And that's the reality of it.</p><p>They're not in high school anymore. Kita has to manage his fields, Osamu can't keep his shop closed too long if he wants to keep his loyal customers, Akagi and Ginjima can't afford to take abrupt and indefinite days off, and both Atsumu and Aran were lucky they could ditch practice this close to their next tournament.</p><p>Being able to drop everything to come back to Hyogo in such a short notice was already a miracle on its own, and none of them knew whether they could pull it off again anytime soon.</p><p>They all have work tomorrow and lives to live and the world won't stop spinning with one less person alive in it. The reality is that time doesn't wait for anyone, not even those who are still in mourning.</p><p>Even if it's to mourn the loss of a treasured friend.</p><p>"It’s in my car, I can get it right now and watch whatever’s in it while all of us are here.”</p><p>With no objections from the rest of the team, Oomimi made a quick run to his car for his laptop as the remaining six found a relatively quiet spot on the back of the funeral home. They settled on a large bench without a word, with Kita sitting on the front of the laptop and the rest of the former third years on either side while Osamu, Atsumu, and Ginjima stood behind the bench to get a better view of the screen.</p><p> </p><p>Then Oomimi plugged the flash disk in.</p><p> </p><p>Initially there were only two folders, which was surprising. One was titled “photos” and the other “videos”. When Kita clicked on the photos folder they were met with rows and rows of new folders titled chronologically, some had each of their names. The note of his recent phone password was written in a text document. It was the date of his, Osamu, Atsumu, and Gin's graduation day. It was a mystery of what his previous passwords could be, but the fact that the middle blocker used these numbers proved that it was such a memorable day and won't be easy to forget.</p><p>Kita, having control of the cursor, clicked on the first folder which was titled by the year Suna was in first grade in high school. Upon opening it they were met with more rows of folders, this time sorted by months instead of years and events. Akagi commented on the impressive thoroughness of Suna’s sorting system and how he only ever gave this much effort whenever slander was involved, to which the others only snorted. Kita clicked on the March folder.</p><p>An array of a certain grey haired male quickly filled the screen. Miya Osamu, pictures in their class, at the cafeteria, in the volleyball practice room. It wasn’t all that surprising really—anyone could’ve guessed that Osamu was one of the first friends Suna made since they were in the same class. As they scrolled down the photos became more varying, first with Atsumu’s wide laughter and antics, then Aran, followed by Ginjima and the rest of the team.</p><p>"Man, it feels like it's just yesterday that we graduated. Time flies so damn fast," Aran thoughtlessly replied, before quieting down in realized melancholy.</p><p> </p><p><em> God, he’s really gone </em> , someone muttered under their breath, voicing everyone’s thoughts. <em> This couldn't possibly be real. </em></p><p> </p><p>There was something bothering Osamu though; he figured that Suna's photographic tendencies include self-portraits of himself too as the former middle blocker gave out borderline narcissist vibes though it wasn't as bad as Atsumu, yet even when they've almost gone through half of his gallery they didn't find a single picture of him alone.</p><p>There were still photos of him with his family. Suna took pictures of his little sister's mess she's created upon eating breakfast. He took pictures of his dad's crooked tie when his mother wasn't there to help the poor man. He took pictures of his mom cooking his favorite food for dinner.</p><p>Osamu was left surprised to see another whole album filled with only him and Atsumu labeled "probably two of my favorite persons but don't ever tell them", making the twin's chests ache. There were recordings of their past fights, unflattering shots of them crying, and some of the pictures are joyful faces of laughing from someone's joke or misery.</p><p>Against his better judgement, Osamu decided to get Kita to play one of the videos. He grimaced as the shrill voice of his younger self back in first year rang into his ears whilst the rest of the video was him wrestling with Atsumu for reasons he's already forgotten. Everyone in the room tensed when Suna's laughter echoed from behind the camera, leaving snarky remarks here and there, acting as if he's a commentator in some sort of a shitty reality show.</p><p>Suna would've laughed so hard over the expressions they're showing right now. They all looked pathetic, and that's exactly the kind of picture he'd unapologetically take. He'd take his cellphone out his pocket in lightning speed like usual, his sole reason was only to commemorate the moment of their dejected faces like they just lost a match.</p><p>Atsumu laughed dryly at the thought, wiping a single tear escaping his eyes. That was such a Sunarin thing to do. It's so on brand of him, and Atsumu won't be surprised if this whole thing was just an elaborate prank orchestrated by yours truly, and that crash, the funeral, everything—was just a terrible dream. A terrible nightmare that he would kill to be able to wake up and give Suna a light smack for scaring the shit out of them.</p><p>Kita, whose face remained the same albeit strained than his usual calm demeanor, was still scrolling down Suna's seemingly endless collection of albums. The flash disk only had his family, the rest of the Inarizaki's members' and a newer folder for EJP Raijin's photos, along with short clips about numerous different events. Kita only focused on the ones about his team so he clicked past the others but he could see Komori and Washio's unassuming faces in the previews- yet there's still no Suna in sight.</p><p>He scanned the Inarizaki folder from Christmas when the boy was in 1st year and the twins’ hair wasn't dyed. Akagi and Oomimi were shorter in the Spring Tournament in their second year. Ginjima and Aran were less muscular compared to them now. Everything had been recorded.</p><p>Aran put a hand on Kita's shoulder and shook his head weakly when their eyes met. Yet the former Inarizaki captain didn’t stop scrolling, searching for something. Kita hadn't given up yet.</p><p>There weren’t any pictures of Suna after a solid minute of searching thoroughly. He still won’t let it slide.</p><p>He stopped dead on his tracks the moment his eyes landed to one of the oldest collections of images. An album dedicated to the boy's seniors, "aran-san's faces'', "every time oomimi-san is being a sap", "AKAGI-SAN CAN BREAKDANCE HOLY SHIT" and "epic captain".</p><p>Aran wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all. True to their names, the albums contained dozens of pictures of them doing what they're doing. Kita’s eyes widened like saucers, looking at pictures of him cleaning and practicing alone. The former captain could recall the times Suna was in his peripherals when he’s doing his after-practice rituals but the boy never said a thing. He just silently watched him before bidding farewells.</p><p>Kita’s hand began to shake. There were so many—more than he could possibly have imagined. The dates stated that it was taken periodically so the pictures were always different from the others. It’s not too excessive to the point that it’s suspicious, just enough to piece it all together.</p><p> </p><p>Suna had always been watching.</p><p> </p><p>"It really isn't fair," Ginjima breathed out. Upon getting nudged by Osamu about what he meant by that, he continued. "He had all of these photos—I don't even have a photo of all of us together apart from that one group one coach made us take and screenshots when we were video-calling. I... would it be weird if I say that I want a copy of everything in this flash disk? At least some of Suna to... to remember him by."</p><p>It's not strange at all, Osamu and the others assured him. In fact, Osamu had the same intentions the moment he saw the first gallery. He's inwardly kicking himself from the regret that he never bothered to take as many pictures himself for keepsakes. He'd have to take them in secret though, since Suna had an unnatural camera sense that allowed him to dodge whenever a camera was pointed at him. But who cares if it’s in secret or not, at least then he’d have something to reminisce about.</p><p>But there was simply nothing. There were pictures of all of them in the same frame of course, but none of the images in the phone had Suna and the rest of the team in them, except obligatory group photos for a poster and it wasn't even taken from his phone. The uneasiness grew heavier as he realized there’s nothing to copy for his own keepsake.</p><p> </p><p>There’s no proof that Suna was their friend.</p><p> </p><p>It's like he was never there with them to begin with.</p><p> </p><p>He's always behind the camera.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> How come they just noticed it now? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Passing through the album of the third years’ graduation party, everyone froze.</p><p>Right beside a picture of Atsumu getting caked on the face by Osamu, there was a video file with Suna on the preview.</p><p>And he’s alone, recording himself for 30 whole minutes.</p><p> </p><p>The video was simply titled: <em> I’ll talk about something coherent one day. </em></p><p> </p><p>Not wasting a second more, Kita immediately clicked on the video.</p><p> </p><p>Suna was sitting in his bedroom; Ginjima could recognize those vintage rock posters anywhere. The room was dimly lit but the phone could catch the entirety of Suna's face as a ray of the streetlights filtered through the half-covered window, painting his room in streaks of golden rod yellows. The video was tousled around as Suna repositions his phone several more times.</p><p>"Uhh, this is recorded in," he stopped to flip his calendar on the wall. "March 29th, half past midnight. I just got home from the third years' graduation party and I'm still stuffed from eating cupcakes and drinking orange juice which is fuckin' weird, 'cause I'm pretty sure Akagi-san put some weird shit inside it to make us feel full so he wouldn't have to get out and buy more stuff. What a sketchy guy."</p><p>The mood in the room changed drastically, Akagi couldn't help but snort. Suna made jokes like he was breathing and it's hard to not let out at least a chuckle.</p><p>“He’s not wrong though, I can still remember how weird those drinks tasted,” Atsumu stuck his tongue out in feigned disgust.</p><p>Akagi only rolled his eyes as he kept himself from smiling too wide. “He looked so young here, Suna i mean.”</p><p>Oomimi hummed in agreement. “Never thought I’d say this but his face used to look so squishy.” Another array of laughter erupted, albeit this time it was more somber.</p><p> </p><p>They all fell silent again as Kita resumed the video.</p><p> </p><p>"Okay, so I originally planned to do a better recording because videos taken like this will probably end up in a bad quality but then again, kinda wanted to piss off my older self for not being able to view it in high resolutions." Suna grinned cheekily, propping his head with his hand on the table. "But yeah. I don't typically take a pic or video of myself, but I felt like this is really important for me to say before I forget about it, so I'm doing it anyway.</p><p>"Y'know, I did promise to Atsumu that I'll delete his "shameful pictures" from my phone but after leaving the party, I don't think I will. Sorry Atsumu, but I'm keeping them. I realized that maybe I should let others get access to my gallery someday, as we definitely would spend less time hanging out with each other given that the third years already graduated and I only have one year left in Inarizaki. Should I make a Drive folder and store everything there so anyone with the link can view it? Eh, but then Atsumu, Osamu and Aran-san would delete everything ‘cause I have embarrassing pics of them the most.” He sighed dramatically, his eyes weren’t quite focused.</p><p>Aran groaned indignantly. “I am <em> not </em>that petty.”</p><p>“Sure yer not, Aran-san. The twins, on the other hand…” Ginjima snickered. Atsumu put a hand on his chest, gasping in betrayal while Osamu only rolled his eyes.</p><p>Kita sighed, not bothering to dignify their quarrel with a response as he continued the clip.</p><p> </p><p>“Was I being mean? Who am I kidding, you've heard the "take a picture, it'll last longer" bullshit, yeah? I’m still keeping them. Maybe I could ask Mom to help me move my gallery to a flash disk or something so that its safety is guaranteed.”</p><p>Suna was quiet for a while. The only sounds they could hear were the ticking of his wall clock.</p><p>"...You might be wondering why I don't have a lot of pictures of myself. Our friends would go like, "oh, you take countless pictures of us, where's yours 'cause it's only fair". And to answer that, I simply don't feel the need to? Not everyone who likes cameras is a fan of selfies, I'm not Atsumu, who takes pics of himself every five seconds. I'm always down for group photos but it's usually me or the coach who takes the pictures. No one said anything about it and I don’t think it’s a burden so I kept doing it. It’s my job at this point. I remember Riseki once came to me asking about anything related to photography even though I have absolutely no knowledge of it than the basics. I’ve always been the camera guy, I’m fine with it. But I'm curious to see if this would change in the future.</p><p>“By future, it’ll probably be the next time I see this video. I’m gonna throw this vid along with other stuff and named it something cryptic, so I could only find it by surfing the entirety of my galleries that is you know, equivalent to a fuck ton of gigabytes! This video is for me to view only, though Mom could see it too since she knows my passwords but that’s fine ‘cause she might need to know this anyway.</p><p>“So yeah, the original purpose of this recording right now is for my future self to watch because I have a truck load of questions and weird feelings swirling in my guts. I don’t know where and who to talk to besides my own Mom and sometimes my sister, Dad is barely home but we’ve talked a bunch. But like,” He clasped both of his hands together. “Disclaimer for anyone who happens to stumble upon this though—this is just me ranting about life and shit, so you know, click away if you want none of that. But do come to me if you have anything to say about it, I would love to have a discussion about existential crisis, anyone is fine at this point.”</p><p>Suna focused his attention fully to the phone now, struggling to find his words.</p><p>“Would you think that I’m weird if I tell you…” he hesitated, eyebrows furrowed. “That I don’t think I belong to where I am now?” Suna sighed, looking distantly to his left. “It’s not about volleyball, by the way. I’m pretty confident of my blocking skills—well, uh, I don’t mean to brag because this is the truth. You remember I got scouted from Aichi to attend Inarizaki, right? Volleyball is one of the best things in my life so it has nothing to do with this. It’s just that…”</p><p>The boy was quiet again. Osamu didn’t miss the way his voice broke when Suna began again.</p><p> </p><p>“I never feel like I’m actually living since from the day I was born.”</p><p> </p><p>Those words struck them like lightning.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not sure what this feeling that I’m having. I feel like there’s always a glass wall between me and everyone else. I could never truly settle, never truly belonging. I always feel like I should keep moving—that this is not where I’m supposed to be yet, but I don’t know where to go or what to do. Whenever I’m with somebody, I can’t really sense them being next to me—instead, it feels as if I’m floating and outside of myself, watching my own detached body interacting with them… as if watching a movie. The scene plays without me actually being there. I’m just a mere spectator.”</p><p>He paused. Leaning to grab something from off-screen, he got back with a volleyball keychain in hand. Osamu remembered that Suna’s sister was the one who gave him that keychain in their second year of high school.</p><p>“…My world is not about me. I have this urgency to drop everything and force myself to be content with everything happening around me as I don’t have any desires to intervene—to be part of the group. I feel like I’m only meant to watch someone else’s life unraveling before me. Me and Suna Rintarou are so separate to the point that for the longest time I thought of him as another character. That we’re only in a reality show and I’m one of the cameramen who’s filming someone acting as me. I kept taking pictures and started to treat it as if it’s my duty, as if taking in the scenes of other people’s lives is the only true purpose of my own.”</p><p> </p><p>Aran found himself covering his mouth in realization.</p><p>It all made sense then. How Suna would look dismissive to a point where it’s concerning, the way he’d stop as if lost in a trance until someone gets him and physically pulls him back to reality, those cryptic conversation that seemingly came out of nowhere that they usually made jokes about because it came out of the left field.</p><p>It’s not because Suna was simply aloof, not because he had a bigger personal space bubble than the rest of the team, it’s—</p><p> </p><p>“There were some instances where I’ve let myself be seen in one of the pictures willingly, using a timer in Akagi-san’s phone for the first time, but I couldn’t recognize the face that should belong to me. I couldn’t tell who’s actually in that picture. The image is in the back of my mind but I couldn’t seem to grasp or understand who this person really was. I know that this is supposed to be me yet I felt no connection to the <em> me </em> in this picture, I couldn’t relate to him whatsoever. It’s a surreal shit, to be fuckin’ honest.</p><p>“And I lose control of my body sometimes when I play volleyball, I can remember that I’m playing but I couldn’t physically get back to my body—as if I’m on autopilot, but my eyes could still see everything and think very clearly. Obviously I was freaking out and time seemed to move excruciatingly slow. Everything was numb. I only managed to regain myself when the referee loudly blew the whistle.” He groaned and looked to nowhere in particular, clearly avoiding the camera. </p><p>“Fourth grade of elementary school, I think that’s probably the earliest occurence I can think of, though I don’t remember anything big happening back then. The match, on the other hand… it really freaked me out the first time it happened. We still won, if you’re wondering! But it’s still very fuckin’ freaky. Kinda makes me wonder what'll happen if I experience it again when I drive a car or something? Let's hope that will never happen 'cause damn, that'd be so messed up. I’ve read some stuff about it online and it’s quite a common thing for people to think of from time to time but I’ve been experiencing it for <em> years </em>and it’s fuckin’ uncomfortable. It’s not like it’s unbearable, though. I would like to get my shit together to go to a therapist just to be sure. I hope Mom wouldn’t mind.”</p><p> </p><p>Suna drew in a long, low breath. Something about the word “therapist” made him ache.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t want to worry her. I don’t want to worry <em> anyone </em>. I know that you’re supposed to value and put your mental health first, but I think I could try to figure it out myself. I mean I’m not hurting or anything and I can wait until I gather enough courage to go through it.” Suna fiddled with the keychain nervously, gently rattling and spinning the round item over and over. “And before the time comes, I could find a way to cope. Akagi-san once told me that the fact that I always look for shortcuts was cool and handy though Kita-san disagreed about me cutting everything off without living it through was wasteful and unfortunate—both of them are right. I just want to find a way out of things quickly as I get terribly uneasy if I dwell for too long. But, I don’t want to let go of it just yet. In the end, I did find a solution.”</p><p> </p><p>Then Suna smiled. It didn’t reach his eyes but that was the most genuine one they had ever seen on his face compared to his usual shit-eating grin they’re used to get.</p><p> </p><p>“That is to <em> document everything that I see. </em>”</p><p> </p><p>It was almost unsettling to watch as he looked so proud and satisfied, almost blissful.</p><p> </p><p>“Others might think I’m fuckin’ weird because of this, like who in their right mind chose to watch the lives of others hours on end instead of living our own?” He snickered, crossing his arms over his chest. The keychain dangled on his fingers.</p><p>“I thought about that as well at first, this is probably just indulging my problems, but I quickly realized that’s a load of bull. I love taking pictures in the first place, and I…” Suna scratched the back of his head, before mumbling, “…<em> love </em>my friends. Something like that, I guess. I find it fun to look at them, keeping individual albums for each and every one of them, because they’re special like that. They’re such interesting people and I’m quite honored to be able to see them up close, honestly. I can’t say that I have strong emotions towards anyone except my own family ‘cause I’ve known them all my life but Inarizaki… is really a sight to behold when I couldn’t find any other way to leave a mark in this world.”</p><p>His smile lingered, only for it to grow weaker each second.</p><p>“People always say I have this… “Resting Bitch Face”,” Suna air-quoted with both hands, snorted. “They—mostly Atsumu, keep saying that I don’t show emotions enough and that my face is too unreadable to be human. Which is bullshit, when Kita-san is <em> literally there </em>, looking like he came straight out of a horror movie and he turns out to be the unexpected serial killer for the shitty plot twist ‘cause he’s way too quiet not to be one. They might think I’m too impassive to be feeling like this. They have the rights to think that, since I’ve never given the reason to think otherwise. Again, I don’t want to worry them.</p><p>“Taking pictures is the only decent choice I had back then. I think it began back in third year of middle school? I didn’t shoot all that much as I didn’t have a lot of close friends but on the day I enrolled in Inarizaki, things started to pick up. I’ve been filming religiously ‘cause they just keep on giving! They weren’t exactly happy with my antics but soon accepted it as just something that I do. I never went overboard and I took extra care not to invade anyone's privacy, I'm not an actual creep, mind you!</p><p>“We’ve seen those pub service announcements about phones, “enjoy the moment”, “look up”, and something like that. I’ve heard that shit countless of times, even though it’s stupid but I would admit that they have a point. Kita-san told me it's impolite to be on my phone when there are people around me, but I've never lost sight of my surroundings, believe me. Even Ritsuko—” Suna frowned at the mention of her name but continued. “Y’know, your annoying little sister, in case you forgot the little brat who pushed you off your bike and broke a couple of your bones in fifth grade—kept telling me to use my phone less before I became four eyes. But that’s not the point, is it?</p><p>“I take pictures to get tangible evidence that I’m really here. I am there to see something happen. I take pictures to make it last longer. I may not be in them, but I still watch it all unfold. And I guess living on the sidelines like this isn't all that satisfying or even 'healthy' but that's what I honestly believe anyway. I’m saving these photos to view later as a reminder for myself that these are my friends who know who I really am—and it assures me that they somewhat remember me as their resident asshole Rintarou who can’t stop taking shitty pictures behind the camera.</p><p>"Oh, and volleyball has really helped me get through it a lot. I think this is the only link I have with the real world, the only thing connecting me with a character who's supposed to be Rintarou, despite everything else." Suna dragged a hand down his face. "At the very least, I can still remember that <em> I </em> like to play it. Not Atsumu or Aran-san's level of <em> like </em> 'cause I know I could never love volleyball as much as they do, but my love is still something that can't be treated lightly. Volleyball is part of Suna Rintarou's identity, and everyone says so too so it must be right."</p><p>At this point nobody knew who started crying. Osamu was already drowning in tears, crying his eyes out. Ginjima was there to rub his back in little circles, though Atsumu wasn’t sure if Gin was doing it for Osamu or for himself. Oomimi gripped his knee so tight he's sure it'll bruise. Aran blinked his tears away, so did Akagi, and Kita...</p><p>Kita had to remain the silent reassurance. He clicked continue.</p><p>“It’s nice to look back, telling myself that they have bits and pieces of memories about me, since I don’t even think that I’m real at all and I don’t know why or how it is. I tend to forget who I am when I wake up and the worst thing is—I can’t bring myself to feel bad about it. The world feels very dreamlike and for a second I can’t recall anything about myself.</p><p>“The memories return after a few rapid blinks and a glass of cold water. But waking up to the sound of my alarm clock buzzing and seeing my phone wallpaper of familiar faces, it all comes back in an instant. <em> I am Suna Rintarou </em> . Everyone knows me as Suna Rintarou. So I figured that maybe, what had kept me together all this time is the thought of me leaving memorable impressions to all of them, that I live in their minds, and that I may be <em> someone</em>, after all."</p><p>On the spur of the moment Atsumu began pacing as he screamed. The faux blond started ranting about how Suna never outright told them anything about the struggle he’s going through and why would he do that? Were they not close enough friends? He knew the answers to these questions but still his tears won’t stop pouring because damn it he could’ve done something to help! There should’ve been something he could do, right? The rants became louder and less coherent until he choked on his sobs.</p><p>Kita only called him once and Atsumu stopped pacing, shoulders slumping. Kita clicked on the space bar to resume the video.</p><p>“And no, it’s not like I feel like I’m not someone significant or inferior—no fuckin’ way. I know I deserve to be in Inarizaki. Coach Kurosu had told me many times that I’m starting to get tired of it, though I know he just wanted the best for me—for all of us. If anything, I’m still thinking why they wanted to have something to do with me outside of volleyball. I’m mostly dismissive about everything... What do they see in us, Rintarou?”</p><p>Suna’s eyes softened as if he remembered a pleasant memory. He let out a quiet snort before continuing.</p><p>“Atsumu for some reason is still friends with me despite me being a major dickhead towards him. Well, maybe because <em>we</em> <em>both </em>are and he finds comfort in that, but same difference. Same goes for Osamu, who still wants to go to the cafeteria to eat lunch together with me, who has accidentally eaten his share of desserts multiple times in the training camp, but he still trusted me around his food. Even Gin too, who gets scolded by Kita-san every time when it was me who did something bad.</p><p>“Maybe it’s just something that normal friends do. I don’t know why they’re acting like that to me. I really like Atsumu, Osamu and Gin as friends. Riseki too, and the senpais are one of the greatest people that I know. I’m just afraid that I’m not giving them the same amount of effort to maintain our friendship since I don’t know how to even handle myself… I didn’t have a lot of friends growing up, please spare me. My little sister has always been my best friend—<em>cringe</em>, I know—but I love her, okay? I love my family and I wouldn’t trade them for the world. Knowing how much they love me, appreciate my company, created an illusion that I might be some sort of a protagonist! But no one likes a shitty protagonist with an attitude so scratch that, we can’t be a protagonist even in our own life! Worst idea I could think of.”</p><p>The room was filled with Suna’s laughter yet the atmosphere grew heavier from the joke he’s sent flying.</p><p>“How do they put up with something like me? I found myself asking that, but I’m thankful that I’m blessed to be with such wonderful people. I must’ve done something heroic in my past life—that could explain why. Did I save an old lady from a burning house? Did I die protecting a child from falling debris? Or something like finding an extremely rare jewel, or inventing something extraordinary? What if…” He paused. “Wait, since when did the topic change? Man, I should be careful to not go off on a tangent…And I just noticed I’ve abused the word “feel” a lot. I thought I’m great at Literature, I should’ve found better words than that.”</p><p>Suna cleared his throat and focused on the camera again. Osamu was bewildered at the sudden shift of emotions but it wasn’t just him. The group was still spiraling in thoughts at the information he flooded in.</p><p> </p><p>The Suna Rintarou they knew was indifferent. So true to his words that they would never have thought he'd have a burden this heavy. The Suna Rintarou they knew didn't think he mattered, didn't think he even existed. The Suna Rintarou they knew had all these things going on and he still found the will to show up at practices, still made sarcastic quips and laughed freely and give his all on the court.</p><p> </p><p>The Suna Rintarou they knew was so, so strong.</p><p> </p><p>“Anyways, that <em> was </em>something that I thought of. After rattling my brains out to think, I came to another conclusion. Whether it’s a better one or not—I’m not so sure myself, but my first reason was so depressing, it’s not even funny.” He rolled his eyes and gave out an especially heavy breath.</p><p>"Maybe this is just my unphotogenic-ness talking, but really- I don't need pictures to prove that I am growing as a person. People around me are living proof that Suna Rintarou is alive and kicking. You know that I'm here. I know that you're there. We both know that we're walking on the same ground. We both know where we came from. We both know each other’s history. What truly make other people remember us are our identities. The photos are just a bonus. You don't see a photo of someone new and go "oh, I know them" immediately, right? You have to know them first to understand who they really are, just like when you're visiting a museum and seeing a painting of a famous person. You wouldn't know who they are if you don't read the description explaining their autobiography, and it'll be so different if you were to be acquainted with them instead of listening to someone else explaining who they were, yeah? So even though I absolutely love taking pictures of others purely for blackmail material or memento, I think taking mine is useless if I know people won't know me simply from a picture. I want to make you remember the <em> real me </em>from interactions, not from a film. Same goes for volleyball, I want to meet you on the court instead of knowing you from a monthly magazine. Although meeting you in the bleachers would be fun too. We could shit on other people’s errors from above!”</p><p>Ginjima cracked a smile before he could stop himself. He couldn’t help but to recall their high school days where Suna would drag him to run away from pre-game warm ups with the pretense of scoping out possible competitions and to laugh behind their backs whenever they missed a serve. That was one of his earliest memories with Suna.</p><p>Osamu's mind wandered to the first time they met in their classroom. Suna approached him before he stood up from his chair and offered his introduction as someone who's also in the volleyball team. They got along well from day one because Osamu could tell right off the bat that Suna was chill and a no-bullshit kind of guy, unlike a certain loudmouth that of a brother. And Atsumu, in a true Atsumu fashion, ruined their bonding moment by bumping into his new friend.</p><p>The blond's first impression of Suna wasn't the prettiest as the way the boy bumped on him, all he said was nasty insults on how he should see where he's going. It made him remarkable too, as most people who saw the twins together for the first time always had obnoxious reactions—but then again, Suna must've heard of them before.</p><p>The moment Aran heard screams in the first year hallways, he knew right away what had happened. What he didn't know was there's a boy he's never seen before being caught in the twins' crossfires. What's surprised him more was the fact that Suna didn't seem concerned at all. Aran prayed that maybe Suna could be the next "Miya Twins Official Handler" and even though the former middle blocker tends to fan the fire, Suna could shut them up immediately when he wanted to.</p><p>Akagi never liked clingy underclassmen but while Suna wasn't the nicest one in his batch, the libero enjoyed his company a whole lot because of his witty comments about literally everyone that made him laugh. Suna always had something to say—Akagi gritted his teeth upon realizing that Suna had never actually talked about himself and Akagi himself never bothered to ask.</p><p>Oomimi was the same way. He believed that Suna was a big volleyball junkie considering how the boy quickly rose to the starting rooster at unbelievable speed. He figured he'd start boasting about how great he was in volleyball, but he never did—he never said a word.</p><p>One word to describe Suna was that he's otherworldly, according to Kita. Strange yet he still fit right in any group—making him think that perhaps <em> they </em>were the odd ones out. The first time they had a conversation was in the club room when Kita was finishing his cleaning. It was only him in the room at the time, sitting on the bench with phone in his hand. As he asked what he's doing with his phone, the boy turned to ask how he's doing instead. Kita was beating himself for not pressing any further, for not thinking over it twice.</p><p> </p><p>“Once I've infiltrated your brains I'd make sure you'll never forget about me, I'm way more powerful than any one of you combined even without a single shot of me. Then again, this video would be like, 3 year worth of selfies 'cause shit- it's been half an hour already? I hope it'll suffice. Who wants my photo anyway, right?"</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Us. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>If only they knew what was going on. Could it all be different then?</p><p> </p><p>"Fuck, I'm ramblin'. Since when did this become philosophical? Point is, don't delete any pictures of your friends, man! Move it to Google Photos or Drive if you're running out of storage or the flash disk like I said before. Oh, and if this video is still buried for like, a decade or so, or you just found it after you're in your mid thirties, please tell me you're still playing volleyball? Are you an EJP Raijin player, Red Falcons, or even Black Jackals?” Suna’s eyes lit up by the thought of it. “I've been eyeing them for a while and if you're in one of them, then great! I might be asking too much, but being in a National Team is lowkey one of few life goals. Being remembered as a volleyball player would be reaaaally nice written on my tomb. Wait, no—I didn’t mean to sound so morbid, I swear this is the orange juice talkin’.</p><p>“Oh, and if you somehow tripped on your own legs and fell on your head, forgetting why you have thousands of blackmail pictures of your high school teammates on your phone, just remember that… this is something that you can always return back to. Well, I also made these to watch and scroll through together for future reunions or something like that to reminisce like old men we are... and if you—any of my former or current teammates—were to find any of these before the reunion, then whoops, hope you don't think of me as some sort of creep! You guys never really told me to stop and even Kita-san approved of me snapping pictures unless it's deemed inappropriate which I wholeheartedly complied! In my defense, I've been a good boy all year round!</p><p>"Alright, this has been going on forever. This could be some sort of a time capsule so for final notes, cherish your friends! Bother Atsumu and Osamu and confuse Gin out of his mind whenever you can, annoy the living shit out of Aran-san and Riseki, put ice cubes in Oomimi-san's warm tea, play more online games with Akagi-san, and most importantly- continue to find Kita-san's weaknesses to exploit, my guy. That last advice is a complete opposite of my first statement but it still counts.”</p><p>Suna laughed again at that, but fell silent as he looked down to his lap. When he looked back up, his gaze softened.</p><p>“Also, please go to see a therapist if you haven’t already. I know I’m more of a ‘screw everything, too much work’ kind of guy, but I hope it changes a bit when I get older, at least. Try to insert yourself more to the group and I can’t believe that I’m saying this, but maybe put down your phone once in a while? I'm starting to think that Kita-san might be right about "living the moment" shit. He really knows his stuff best."</p><p>Suna laughed loudly and carelessly.</p><p> </p><p>There were pinks on his cheeks. There was hope.</p><p> </p><p>"Ugh, after talking for a while, I realize that this is heavy of a topic after all. I should definitely go to my family to talk this over, and maybe make another separate video talking about it. Hell, I might go to Ritsuko and bother her with this. Mom and Dad wouldn’t be too freaked out, I think. I hope. I bet it's gonna be embarrassing no matter what though, like how do you even begin to explain—"</p><p>By that point, a young girl they recognized had barged in his room, switching the bedroom lights on and complained about how it's 1 in the morning and she could hear Suna laughing from her own room, to which Suna only laughed even louder in mockery. The girl huffed in annoyance and muttered, “I'm going back to sleep."</p><p> </p><p>With that, the video ended abruptly and nobody said a thing, stretching the silence to infinity as they let themselves get washed away by the sheer apprehension of it all.</p><p> </p><p>All was quiet until Akagi cleared his throat.</p><p> </p><p>“Do you, uh… do you want to hang out somewhere? Like, right now.” Akagi asked no one in particular. "I… don’t feel like being alone today.”</p><p>Oomimi understood. Stretching his arms as if he hasn't been shaking from crying, he nodded at Akagi. "To where do you have in mind?”</p><p>“Anywhere will do, really.”</p><p>“We can—" Osamu stopped to steady his voice, "—my shop is 40 minutes away from here. We can go there if you want.”</p><p>"You’re just saying that to promote your onigiri shop aren’t you, Samu?”</p><p>“Shut up, Tsumu.” Atsumu barked a laugh at that, to which Kita tenderly smiled.</p><p> </p><p>They crammed into Oomimi's car and drove to Osamu’s onigiri shop. They blasted old nostalgic music, letting Osamu and Atsumu banter more than usual (though the twins only did to fill the silence). Conversations were somber until they did, after all. It’s good to hang onto familiar things.</p><p>Ginjima and Akagi started talking to each other about their jobs as instructors, both asking for advice or two then it transcended idle conversations—asking to know how they're doing so far, how's life been treating each other, how they're holding up. Nobody said a word about a silent promise they made to always check up on everyone, <em> really </em> talk to them this time.</p><p>Oomimi had pulled Aran to listen to his rants about his team in Red Falcons, telling him all about his teammates to which Oomimi smoothly changed the subject to something like whether or not he had watched the reruns of Sazae-san last night over tea.</p><p>Osamu held Atsumu’s arm a little tighter, and in return Atsumu hugged his shoulder in silence. Kita took extra care studying each and every one of their features, noting each new sign of maturing, each sober glance they made to each other when they thought no one else was looking, etching the way they laughed into his memory.</p><p> </p><p>They took pictures together. Tried to record several videos too, though not nearly as smooth and spontaneous as Suna’s, they managed.</p><p> </p><p>Suna might think that this was pointless, but it's what they wanted. There weren't many remains of Suna to be physically remembered, besides the memories of the loud sound of camera shutter.</p><p>The only way to not let him be forgotten by the rest of the world was to keep the Suna Rintarou they knew in their hearts and minds.</p><p>They didn't need pictures. They had memories.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>(A) The title of this fic is a reference to Sylvia Plath's "The Bell Jar". The whole quote is as follows: "I took a deep breath and listened to the old brag of my heart. I am. I am. I am." It is interpreted as a reminder that she's still alive and existing, a way of reassuring herself of her place in the world. It's quite fitting, don't you think?</p><p>(Y) THIS STARTED OFF WHEN I REALIZED SUNA PROBABLY DOESN’T HAVE A LOT OF PICTURES OF HIMSELF SINCE HE’S A CAMERA GUY AND I HAVE PLENTY OF PHOTOGRAPHER FRIENDS WHO SHARE THE SAME FEELING AND IT WENT FROM THERE. HOW DID IT ESCALATE TO THIS. FUCK</p><p>(A) SUNA WHUMP SUNA WHUMP SUNA WHUMP AHAHAHAHHAHAH COME SPIRAL WITH ME... THERE'S NOT ENOUGH HURT!SUNA FICS...</p><p>(Y) There's a high chance that we'll make a Komosuna prequel of this, where it takes place a while before the accident. I was planning to post this fic on Suna's birthday but (A) keeps asking to be posted quickly, so the prequel will probably be up on Suna's birthday instead.</p><p>(A) We fell into this rabbit hole and we're not planning to get out anytime soon. What do you think about this fic? Let us know in the comments!</p><p>Until then!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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